


Vase of Alliums

by positivelypitch



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), I Don't Even Know, My brain said I had to write about Michael and I didn't say no, Presumed Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Thinks TommyInnit is Dead, Tubbo is a good parent, Wholesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:34:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29904624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/positivelypitch/pseuds/positivelypitch
Summary: "They’re Alliums. Bees like them too, but I think Ranboo put them in here for Tommy. We can go pick some tomorrow if you like.”Michael cocked his head at the unfamiliar name.“Tommy? Oh, You never got to meet Tommy did you? You would have liked him I think.He would have been your God-father."Just Tubbo holding and talking to Michael, telling him about Tommy.
Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, They are platonically Married your honour
Comments: 5
Kudos: 220





	Vase of Alliums

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how or why I turned the idea of two platonic husbands and their zombie Piglin child into a wholesome fic but oh well, hope you enjoy ahah
> 
> -Rosie x

Tubbo, sat comfortably in the chair in Michael’s son’s room, holding the toddler to his chest. What with the snow drifting down lazily outside the window, the scene was picturesque. Sure, the child’s half skull face might have made it a little less conventional, but who was there to judge? 

Michael had calmed down from his hyperactive spurt after Phil and Fundy left, which both parents were grateful for; It had tired them all out endlessly. Now, the little one was content to just gaze around, admiring his small world with the fascination only a kid can have. 

“You like your new room?” Tubbo asked. 

Michael of course said nothing.

“I think you do. You like the family portraits don’t you. Can you see yourself in them? Look, that’s you!”

Tubbo stood and carried Michael over to the paintings, pointing at them with his free hand.

“That’s you, that’s me, and that’s your other Dad.”

Tubbo wandered around to each painting, letting Michael look over them with wide eyes. Well, one wide eye. When he stopped by the window, Michael wriggled and reached for the vase of flowers that Ranboo had left there. 

“Oh, you like the flowers?” 

The toddler reached towards them again so emphatically, that Tubbo was scared that Michael would wriggle out of his grip completely. The thought worried him, and he held the boy closer. 

“They’re Alliums. Bees like them too, but I think Ranboo put them in here for Tommy. We can go pick some tomorrow if you like.”

Michael cocked his head at the unfamiliar name.

“Tommy? Oh, You never got to meet Tommy did you? You would have liked him I think. He had just as much energy as you do. He was meant to be your god-father. And the flower boy at the wedding, but we didn’t get the chance to ask him before- Not that we would have given him the choice.”

Tubbo couldn’t help but smile at the idea of Tommy grumpily walking down the aisle, a flower crown perched on his head, as he reluctantly tossed petals over the floor. 

He deliberately ignored the twinge of pain that came with imagining what could have been. What Tommy would have thought about his and Ranboo’s platonic marriage, let alone their adopted son, Tubbo had no idea. But negative or not, he wanted to know. 

He wanted to hear him.

He wanted Michael to know him. 

No matter now. Nothing to be done. 

He plucked a flower from the vase and booped Michael on the nose with it, causing him to sneeze adorably. Laughing, Tubbo replaced the flower, hugged his son close and went to sit back down. They’d done a good job on the room, he thought to himself. It was safe. A safe space in all of the shit that was happening outside. And Tubbo would do whatever he could to make sure that the horrors stayed there, outside, out of this room. 

The snow began to fall heavier. Thick flakes tumbled soundlessly to the already coated ground. It reminded him of the mystery, the  _ murder, _ he had yet to solve, and the tampered snow on top of the prison. So many clues yet no determining factor. He would get back to that tomorrow.

Because Michael had just fallen asleep. And there was no way in hell that he would risk waking him up again. 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave Kudos / comments if you enjoyed my weird little fic. I always reply and do take requests. Your responses mean the world to me!
> 
> Edit: Y'all thank you so much for all the support on this fic! It really does mean so so much XD I love you all
> 
> Stay safe and have an awesome day
> 
> -Rosie x


End file.
